


On the Outside Looking In

by Nottheromangod



Category: No Fandom
Genre: A random story I wrote, F/M, but okay I guess, i am not expecting anyone to read this, i felt angsty, i would like some feedback please, that would be very nice thank you, there is a spirit departing from a body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25741399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nottheromangod/pseuds/Nottheromangod
Summary: A man dying, a woman grieving, and a mysterious figure. What more could you want?
Relationships: A man/a woman
Kudos: 1





	On the Outside Looking In

He looked at her, mouth lolling open, lying in a pool of blood made on the desolate battlefield. He coughs a few times, trying to find the strength to speak. When he does, he simply says, "It isn't your fault. No matter what they say, it isn't your fault." There is so much pain in his eyes, so much pain and understanding and guilt that she could barely breath while looking at him. She sees those eyes, usually filled with life, become duller and duller, like his essence, his soul, is being sucked right out of him. He uses what she knows to be the last of his strength, to smile at her, but his face is marred by the pain-stricken grimace that overtakes it. His eyes still have a little but of life left, but its depleting by the second. She bends over him, crying, screaming, to the universe to just let him live. He's almost with God now, almost in heaven, and his sorrow for her is almost overwhelming. He looks down on her and his body, his vessel, with a sadness that almost breaks him. He sees her finally accept the fact that he's dead, and won't be able to see her for a long time. He looks to his left to see a cloaked figure, dressed all in black, holding out their pale hand for him to take. "Who are you," he asks, wondering just who the mysterious figure is. The pale hand retracts, joining the other in an effort to let down the hood, so he might see their face. The hood finally drops, for him to see the most beautiful human being he has ever seen. Shoulder length black hair, stunning light eyes, and features that belong to no man or woman. "Ready to go?" the cloaked being asks. He looks at the pale hand that's outstretched, then at the woman leaning next to his body sobbing tears of pain, the kind that overwhelms a human being. He takes the hand in his tan one, the color a stark contrast from the other. He then looks the figure in the eye, black meeting color, and says the last words he will ever say on the human plain of existence, with finality. "I'm ready, Death." He smiles wanly. "I'm ready.

**Author's Note:**

> I literally wrote this on my messages app
> 
> I was bored and in the mood to write something. This is one of my only works that sounds good.


End file.
